The Wandering Commander: Asinius Commodus

[Ludens]

Thanks to Ludens who keep on "goading" me .

My pleasure

[littlelostboy]

New updates. Enjoy.
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Chapter 17 – At the Northern Wastes
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“We should have taken the south routes,” said the kitchen lad.

“Last thing I would want to do,” replied Asinius.

“Why?” asked the kitchen lad.

“My roman soldiers are there, I want this trip to be kept secret,” said Asinius.

“We still can travel secretly in the night,” said the lad.

“Hush, no more talking, there are many hostile tribes here,” said Asinius.

“I heard that this place is the gates to the otherworlds, the world of gods or Hades,” the kitchen lad continued talking, ignoring Asinius’s command.

“I said hush! If you go on blabbering again, I would throw into a bush thicket and leave you there for the tribes,” Asinius scolded the lad but kept his tone at a conversation level so the kitchen lad missed the threat and the sarcasm just slide off him.

Yet Asinius was worried. The lad might be right for their surroundings were deadly quiet. There was no a breath of wind and everything seemed to lack life, as if some force was feeding off the pulsing life that came from the south.

The snow covered the most of their paths and when the dim sunlight struck on it, fine rainbows appeared in the sky everywhere, glaring and disorientating Asinius. The rainbows seemed menacing, as if they were bridges to the spirit worlds. There were few forests around them, the rest was just snow, rocks and frozen wastes. Yet, Asinius had a feeling that eyes were watching them from the forests.

He wished that the eagle were with him, roosting on his shoulder. He missed the familiar weight of it on his right shoulder and the power of strength and aura that it gave him. Somehow, the barbarians were afraid of the eagle, as it had been proven many times when Asinius battled against the axe-wielding Germans. Yet, he wondered whether the eagle would deflect those silent stares that seemed to radiate from the forests.

The kitchen lad remained oblivious to the danger. Either it was his first time on an adventure and he was plain excited or he was just plain stupid and unobservant. Asinius sighed, wonder why Tertius forced him to take an inexperienced kitchen lad. It was just another burden for him and another mouth to feed.

“Silence,” whispered Asinius. Immediately, the kitchen lad stopped whistling and strained his ears for sounds. But all he could hear was just the ringing of silence in his ears.

“What is it? Is it an animal?” asked the lad.

“Maybe, but this one sounds different, like a scuffling of human foot,” whispered Asinius.

“A German?” whispered the boy, wide-eyed with fear and excitement.

“Could be, but quiet now, I am trying to listen,”

“We could hide…”

“No, it is no use and silence!”

Both Asinius and the kitchen lad remain silent. Even the horses sensed something and the grey horse whinnied with fear but became silent after a moment. The ringing of the silent grew louder and louder in the kitchen lad’s ears. Asinius glanced around him, staring at the forest a mile ahead, trying to see any furtive figures against the dark trees’ shadows. Slowly, without trying to make to much movement or noise, Asinius’s hand slipped down to his thigh where the cold steel of his dagger laid. Straining his ears, he heard the scuffling sounds getting louder and louder.

And nearer.

Asinius unsheathed his dagger slowly, grateful that the well-oiled and polished dagger did not make a sound against the sheath. The kitchen lad’s face was pasty white with fear, his breath coming in and out fast. With controlled precision, Asinius lifted his dagger from under his cloak, careful not to let light struck it.

“Squeak!” Asinius and the lad jolted. It sounded like an animal but yet too human to sound like an animal. It sounded more like a woman or a female making squeaking noise.

“What is…” asked the lad and then: “What in the name of Guern…”

“Do not panic!”

“It is not an animal!”

“Silence!” Asinius spoke in an angry voice. Almost at once, a huge fur-covered creature padded up to them. It had the look of a lion but yet it was too small to be a lion. Its snout seemed more pointed instead of the roundness that the lion had. Furthermore, what was a lion doing in the north? Its eyes were bright green and although it looked curious, there seemed to be a depth of something in those green pools. Both Asinius and the lad watched the creature warily.

“Best not to look at it in the eye,” said Asinius and both he and the lad bowed their heads down.

“Best to sheath your dagger too,” said the lad. Asinius just answered in a small grunt and hid his dagger under his cloak.

The creature was already sniffing the horses. Somehow, the horses seemed unafraid, acting like the creature was just some other harmless animal.

Suddenly, its ears pricked up, as if hearing a call and with a leap and bound, the creature sprinted towards the forest, disappearing as its white fur blended with the surrounding snow.

Both Asinius and the lad slowly looked up, both still tensed from the experience with the strange creature. Asinius’s hand was gripping the dagger so hard that the handle bit painfully into his skin.

“What…was…that?” whispered the lad, breaking the silence around them.

“I have no idea, I have not seen it before,” said Asinius.

“We could try and hunt it,” said the lad.

“No, we need to be on our journey. We have to reach the next three forests before night falls,” said Asinius with brutal efficiency, now that the fear was leaving him, “besides, the creature could be from the spirit worlds.”

The lad only nodded. Flicking the reins, the grey horse started trotting forward. Asinius slowly sheath his dagger back and glanced around the white and grey landscape before urging Pegasus onto the never-ending horizon.


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Chapter 18 – The Rider
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A horseman galloped furiously towards the gates of Alesia. Although the only sound that filled the air was the beats of the hooves hitting the ground, the rider looked nervously around him, watching warily for any highwaymen or for any person that was following him.

In front of him, the massive wooden gate of Alesia loomed up. The stonewalls stared bleakly at the rider and the windows in the stone walls flickered with the fires lit inside, like a thousand eyes watching the rider intently.

Jerking his rein, the rider pulled the horse to a stop. Vapours streamed out of the panting horse’s nose, its sides slick with sweat and its eyes were bulging out with the strain of breathing and galloping fast over long distances.

“I demand to speak to Asinius, Leader of the Juli Faction!” bawled out the rider, his voice echoing eerily through the mist-covered plains.

“Who goes there, and whence you come from?” came a reply from the parapet of the wall.

“My name is of no concern but I bring grave news from Rome,” yelled the rider.

“I cannot let you in if you do not give me your name, for that is the orders,” replied the sentry.

“Let me in, this is important!” bawled the rider again.

“Keeping orders are just as important,” came a different voice. This time it was a centurion, who stuck out his head over the wall, wondering who was making a din.

“This concerns the well-being of the Juli faction!” replied the rider.

“The orders concern the well-being of this important city! What is your name?” roared the centurion.

The rider was at lost. He could not give his real name away and fabricating one was hopeless ever since he yelled out that he bring grave news from Rome. Even if he gave a name now, the centurion might not believe him, as he would think that the rider would be a spy. Only one choice was left.

“My name is of great secret, centurion. But I, being worthy in Asinius’s sight, wear the medallion of the eagle!” yelled out the rider.

There was a pause. Neither the centurion nor the sentry replied. Glancing around him, the rider felt insecure and stared nervously at the forest at the east, as if expecting barbarians hordes to pour out from there and attack him any moment. The mist had begun to lift away, although it played tricks and shadows on the rider, which unsettled him or the more. Waiting impatiently for the reply, the rider stared up at the wall and muttered a irritable curse.

“Nameless one,” roared the centurion, breaking the silence and startling the rider, “I will send a ten legionaries down to search you, so as to make sure that you do not carry anything deadly and that you truly carry the medallion of the eagle.”

The rider yelled his approval and began waiting for gates to open. With a thundering groan, the massive wooden gates slowly creaked open. Every inch it moved, the rider willed it to open faster, impatience broiling in his blood. Finally, a gap appeared and two legionaries stepped out, their alert eyes peering out through the mist, trying to make out the rider in greyish surroundings.

When their eyes were accustomed to the surroundings, the legionaries stepped aside and two more legionaries marched out follow by another small column. Soon, ten legionaries were peering at the rider through the mist. Two legionaries stood guard at the gates, watching and observing their surroundings. The other eight approached cautiously towards the rider, hands on their gladius.

The leader of the group walked up right to the rider and demanded him to step down from the horse. The rider complied and as soon as his feet touched the ground, three legionaries surrounded him and search his cloak, his tunic and his body for any hidden dagger while the other four went through the horse. The leader stood back and watched the rider closely, his expert eyes darting all over, watching for any suspicious bulging. Satisfied that there was nothing, the leader called his legionaries off and requested the medallion, which the rider produced immediately. After much examining, (for the light was dim), the legionary yelled out an approval to the centurion.

The rider rode into the city, garrison of legionaries stared at him from above the wall and from the sides of the gates. As he entered the city, the huge gates clashed shut behind him. The centurion stood in front of the rider blocking the path.

“Who do you need to see?” asked the centurion.

“Asinius or Tertius,” replied the rider hastily, “Either of them!”

The centurion paused, doubtful whether to trust the mysterious rider. Gazing at the shiny medallion near the rider’s chest, the centurion finally nodded and ordered two legionaries to follow the rider.

“My legionaries will lead you to the palace,” said the centurion, “but I’ll require you to get off your mount,”
The rider simply nodded and getting off his horse, he followed the legionary ahead of him while the other led the horse along. Slowly, they disappeared into the maze of the sleeping city.

[littlelostboy]

New updates. Enjoy
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Chapter 19 – Sulla Finds Out
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Sulla was in his personal chamber reading some tablets and scrolls. The vast golden and silver table was carved out with intricate designs of the Roman gods. On it was filled with numerous objects, small crystal set in a silver holder, scrolls, wax tablets, pens, knifes, sealing wax and other golden and silver treasures that somehow Appuis Sulla managed to collect. They were fine to look at, with intricate designs and their colour glittered whenever sunlight struck on them. Yet, Sulla cared not a thought for them, leaving many scattered around the cluttered table.

A tall, lanky man entered the exquisite chamber. The man envied Sulla, his wealth, his power and his lavish lifestyle. Sulla knew how to live the life of the rich and powerful, treating wealth as an outlet to indulge in his fantasies. The man stifled the jealousy in him before approaching Sulla and at the same time admiring the brightly painted marble busts and the gold and silver that seemed to overwhelm the chamber.

“Sulla, esteemed Senator…” whispered the man, bowing slightly at his waist, “I have received an urgent message for you…”

“What is it?” asked Sulla irritably; he was about to read the scrolls on the finances of Rome.

“Most important message…” the man whispered, his voice trailing off at the end of the sentence, “

“Give me the scroll,” Sulla snapped, his impatience breaking. He could not stand his own manservant. Many times, Sulla wanted to kicked his bum all the way out to the gutters of Rome but yet it was this manservant who saw the efficient running of Sulla’s household.

Snatching the scroll from the sulking and glowering manservant, Sulla read the scroll, his face slowly turning into a deathly white, then to green and then to grey. The manservant watched alarmingly as his master’s face displayed an impressing array of colours.

“Is there anything wrong…” whispered the manservant.

“No, no, no,” said Sulla, “just exit from my chamber immediately, I need to think,”

“Yes, esteemed one…” whispered the servant before walking away slowing towards the vast doors.

Sulla closed his eyes, his mind swirling at the message. Steady yourself, thought Sulla, steady yourself, think, think! Getting up, Sulla walked to the balcony and stared at the countryside surrounding Rome. Sulla thought that he saw a Juli army marching to Rome, ready to besiege and capture the Eternal City, Asinius ready to slaughter the Senators and the patricians, ready to declare himself the King of Rome, establishing the dreaded monarchy whilst abolishing the Republic. Suddenly, something snapped in his mind. Asinius, Asinius, Asinius. The word played over his head and hurrying back to his table, Sulla picked up the scroll and read it again.

“A spy had told Tertius about the killings. Word has been sent to Sextus and action is being decide by Sextus” was what the short message read.

Another message fell out; Sulla picked it up and read it. It was a scrap from some scroll:
“The Juli Faction is being threatened by our own benefactor, Rome. Actions has to be taken in all cities and regions of the Juli Factions, signed Sextus,” Below, a seal bearing the ring insignia of Sextus, the faction leader ring and the Juli faction was bored into the scroll

Word has been sent to Sextus. Sextus, why Sextus, thought Sulla, why not Asinius? Was Asinius not the faction leader? What happened to Asinius?

Thinking, Sulla sat down, running through all the possibilities, why, why Sextus? Had some secret exchange of power happened between Sextus and Asinius? Was Asinius sick and had he descended into madness? Did some Britons kill him or had he simply disappeared, abandoning the title to Sextus? If so, why? Sulla thought about all this. Yet, Sulla felt a ray of hope. No, Sextus is the faction leader now but no one, not even the Juli faction knew. Had Sextus not stamped his own insignia beside the faction leader and the Juli faction’s? That could only mean one thing: Sextus was the faction leader. Asinius was no more. Sulla smiled, things was going his way more than he hoped.

Sextus was leader, he would be easy to manipulate.

Asinius, Asinius was no more. The Juli was no more.

[Ludens]

Has this story been abandoned? I hope not. It would be a pity to end it after it has progressed so far.

[littlelostboy]

Ah Ludens, no, the story is not abandonded, I haven't even got to the middle part yet. It just that I have ran out of ideas and am taking a short break. Also with the upcoming competiton, I don't think I will be inserting any new chapters at the moment. But I will, soon, or later.